


Codename: Retriever

by UniWrites



Category: Codename: Retriever
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 11:18:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17938715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniWrites/pseuds/UniWrites
Summary: 17 year old Virginia “Ginny” Gray comes from a long military family. After her brother refuses to carry on the family tradition, she takes it upon herself to do so. In 1960s America, Ginny takes on the role of a man named Mike in order to serve in the marines. She meets friends and enemies, but will her secret be revealed?





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This took three months to write! I’m so glad that this story is finally complete! Thank you to anyone who followed me on this journey!

CODENAME:  
RETRIEVER

UniWrites

 

For my grandfather, a Vietnam veteran himself


	2. Act I: Richmond

June 25, 1964

Well, where do I begin?  
First, I might as well say my name. After all, this is my first diary. I am Virginia Gray. For the sake of being personal, I will call myself Ginny. My mom bought you for me for my 17th birthday. You were probably the best gift out of all of them. Everything else was just clothing and cooking supplies. All just boring stuff. You, however, you’re exciting! Except, how will I keep track of you when nothing happens where I live? I get that Richmond is the capital of my home, Virginia. But nothing is ever really exciting here. It's just the same old routine each day!  
Each morning, mom wakes me up and makes breakfast for our family. My family consists of me, mother, father, and my older brother Tom. Tom is only a year older than me, and he is fresh out of high school! He is a good man, though. He already has been accepted to a college in the state! I am so proud of him!  
Well, enough about my family, I suppose you should know a little bit about me. I attend Armstrong High School and I have many friends there. My best friend, though, is a girl named Mary. She is just so fun and kind! I love being around her. I never get any attention from boys, unlike her. In the six years since we’ve met, she’s had four boyfriends! Meanwhile, I haven’t ever had one! My mom wants me to find a boy and settle down when I graduate, but I don’t know if I want to. Along with Mary, I have many other friends, both girls and boys! Despite this, I mostly just keep to myself when it comes to my emotions. I mustn’t worry my friends about how I feel. That is why I am writing to you,  
Well, I might as well end it here. I’ll give you more news when it comes along!  
Sincerely, Ginny

June 30, 1964

I received a call on the telephone. It was a friend of mine, Cynthia. She said that everyone in our grade was going to her house and that she wanted me to come as well. I knew what this meant: Cynthia was going to hold a big party. She does this all the time and has been doing so since 9th grade! She was always a huge rebel against her parents, but in a much different way than me. While she rebels by partying and going out late, I rebel by my secret plans of leaving home once I can.  
When I graduate from high school, I am shaking Richmond off my feet and I will see the world!  
Who knows what is out there outside of this silly old town. I’ll see Paris, London, New York, Sydney, Tokyo, and more! You’ll see! And when I do, I will write to you to prove it!  
But anyways, back onto Cynthia. I had to deny her request because, as much as I care for her, she is just way out. I try to understand her, but I just cannot. Despite that, I’ll still try.

Sincerely, Ginny

July 4, 1964

Today is Independence Day! That means spending time with family, good food, and fireworks! Every year around this time, my relatives come over to stay with our family. My Grandpa Eddie was a soldier in World War 1. Due to reasons I do not know, though, he is in a wheelchair. My brother and I always ask him about his time in the military. He refuses to answer, saying that he is ‘leaving it to our imagination.` Sometimes I just don’t get him!  
Anyways, my mother will soon be calling me downstairs to help set up for the party. So, I will tell you more as soon as I can.  
LATE NIGHT REPORT: I snuck away from my family in order to write to you. I just don’t like it out there. The fireworks are cracking outside the house and my entire extended family is here! My aunties, uncles, grandparents, and cousins! The moment I went downstairs I was instantly asked hundreds of questions! It’s just bothersome.  
I love my family and all, but they can be so nosy! I tell them to not ask me these questions, but then mom smacks me upside the head for being “unladylike.” WELL AS IF! I’ll have you know that I don’t need to be submissive to be a woman! I’m sick and tired of my mother! I wish I could just run away sometimes!

Sincerely, Ginny  
August 5, 1964

I had more beef with my mother today. She said that she was frustrated that I didn’t come home to help clean the house. When I tried to explain that I was too busy helping a friend with summer school homework, she was having NONE of it. She complained that “Our home and family are the top priority. Not school.” Hearing that makes my skin crawl. I just wanted to help my friend, that’s all!  
I called her a chicken and was sent to my room without supper. I’m now writing this with a small light on my desk. I love my mother and all, but she just allows dad to walk all over her. I wish she could take more thought of what I want! Not what people think is “normal!” Well, I ain’t having none of it! They can break my mother, but they can’t break me, you’ll see! I’ll prove it! I’ll prove it to you all!

Sincerely, Ginny

 

August 20, 1964

I have some good news. My final year of high school has started. I’m now a senior along with all my friends. However, there is some news…  
Mom and Dad desperately wanted Tom to join the military. They wanted him to carry on the legacy of my father, and my uncle, and my grandfather. Well, Tom refused to listen. He stood up for himself and left for college. Being honest, I am proud of him.  
Well, I hope my final year of high school goes as well as all the other. I know my life well enough to know nothing out of the ordinary will ever happen!

Sincerely, Ginny

September 16, 1964

Hello, diary. I know my schedule is a bit strange when it comes to writing to you. I can’t help it. Nothing interesting ever comes out of Richmond. Well, that is normally how it is. One day, I just want SOMETHING to happen! It can be anything!  
Well, one can only hope. While I am writing to you, I guess I should say how I’m really feeling.  
It’s about my parents. I love them and all, but my mother is desperate at this time. She always says things to me such as, “Someday when you’re married,” “One day you’ll have a husband and kids,” or “When you’re a housewife for your husband.” It drives me crazy! Why does my mom have to assume these futures for me?!  
My dad is nothing like that. He says I’m just like my Uncle Charlie. I’ve met him once before, and I can see why dad says that. Other than that, my mother can really get on my nerves. Next time we talk, hopefully, I’ll be not as bent as I am right now. 

Sincerely, Ginny

September 27, 1964

Tom said he wanted to talk to me in private. When I asked him what was going on, he opened up to me a lot more than what I was expecting. He said that he really didn’t care about the family name any more than I did. After all, Gray is not that uncommon of a name in our time. He also said that he wants ME to be the one to go off and get a successful job and be rich. Tom never cared for fame or cash, unlike my parents. He’s just a sentimental fella.  
I couldn’t help but just hug him and thank him for his words. It reminds me that, despite my parents bothering words and arguments, at least I have someone to turn to. We need more Toms in this world.  
Sincerely, Ginny.

October 12, 1964

Today at lunch, Cynthia accidentally spilled some soup on a boy in our grade. I don’t know his name, but boy he wasn’t happy. She apologized again and again as she helped to wipe off the spill. During this time, the two got talking, and I knew friendship was born. However, he invited her over to sit with him and his boys and she did. It wouldn’t be so bad if she hadn’t just completely abandoned me! Why does everyone do this???  
Well, I guess the rest of the day went well. I got an A on my test in English and I got Mary as my partner for our science project. Other than that, nothing special happened to me today.  
Hopefully, there will be more exciting events this month! After all, Halloween is approaching!

Sincerely, Ginny

(P.S. Why do we even celebrate Halloween?)

 

October 24, 1964

Every Saturday, I ride my bike down to a local ice cream shop to meet up with Mary and Cynthia. It’s been a tradition of ours since we were about ten. Because it’s getting colder, I had to put a jacket on over the dress I was already wearing. I don’t like to drive because riding a bike gives you a breath of fresh air when you ride.  
Anyways, I got down to the ice cream shop around 11:00 AM. However, much to my surprise, neither of my friends were there! As a matter of fact, the shop was closed! I never learned why, but I just rode back home without any ice cream. I mean, there is always next week. Oh, wait, next week is Halloween.

Sincerely, Ginny

November 1, 1964

It is currently 2:43 A.M. Everyone else is my home is asleep except for me. I’ll tell you what happened that led up to me being wide awake at this time.  
Yesterday was Halloween. Because I am not a little kid anymore, I do not go trick or treating. My dad spent the whole day in bed, asleep. Mom went out for a party with some other moms in our neighborhood. Meanwhile, Tom and I were at the house. He gave out candy while was getting ready to watch scary movies all night. A little after six, my mother called the house, saying that she needed me to go over to the Peterson’s home. They have a seven-year-old son and he was alone at the house because he didn’t want to go trick-or-treating. My mom wanted me to go over and watch him while the family took his sister around the neighborhood. I hesitantly accepted and left my brother alone to deal with any trick-or-treaters.  
A few minutes later, and I got to their house. I know that they leave a key under their doormat, so I was able to get in. Mom has brought me over to their house hundreds of times. Anyways, when I finally got inside, their kid, named Jake, was just sitting there on a chair in the dining room.  
When I sat down next to him, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just got up and went upstairs to his room. It was rude, but I wasn’t going to pursue the rascal. So I just decided to watch television on their sofa instead of my own.  
After about an hour and a half, I woke up from my half-sleeping state to a loud thud. When I ran upstairs to check on Jake, I got quite a surprise. It turns out that he rolled off his bed onto the floor while sleeping. Now wide awake, and hurt, the kid started crying.  
I had no idea what to do, so I just tried to calm him down to the best of my abilities. But nothing worked. After a few minutes of trying to help Jake, I heard the front door open. It turns out the Petersons were home early. When they saw what happened to their son, it was obvious that they were NOT happy with me.  
When I got home, Mrs. Peterson already phoned my mother. So, as a result of a mistake that wasn’t really mine, I was grounded for a week. So for the week, I cannot hang out with any friends of mine outside of school! Being grounded is just the worst!

Sincerely, Ginny

November 2, 1964

I was looking around the newspaper before school. The word “war” repeated itself multiple times. I know our country has had problems with Vietnam thanks to The Gulf of Tonkin Resolution a few months back. The U.S has sent advisors over to their country to help. But, I guess they are taking it a step further. I thought about that for the rest of the day.  
A war? Interesting… My father was in war. So was my uncle and my aunt and my grandfather. I bet Tom is going to carry on the heritage.  
No, I laugh at the idea of my kind-hearted, yet wimpy brother as a soldier.

Sincerely, Ginny

November 13, 1964

I was down at the library today. I didn’t have anything else to do, so that’s where I was. The library was almost empty except for me. No girls or boys at my school ever visit the library. Don’t remember why I was there, though.  
I passed a shelf where something caught my eye. Quickly, I snatched a book off the shelf and opened it. I don’t know where it came from. But, it was filled with empty identity papers. It’s those papers you fill out as an adult to show your identity. An idea popped into my head. Something involving, well, taking some papers.  
So, I did.  
I gently ripped an identity paper from the book before running out the door. Since the library was almost empty, nobody caught me. I got home in 10 minutes after that. My idea I had, it’s not good.  
Maybe I’ll think about whether or not I go through with it...

Sincerely, Ginny

November 14, 1964

I can’t believe I am doing this. First things first, I am so sorry.  
For the past few days, I have been thinking about the war. I know Tom doesn’t want to go. But, if we are to carry on the family tradition, he would HAVE to enlist.  
Unless, I do it for him. Not just for tradition, but to get away from my parents. Particularly, my mom.  
So in the night, I stole my father’s clothing and my mother’s scissors.  
Right after that, I took the papers from my bag. The identity papers. With my pen, I filled out any fake information I needed. I said I was eighteen on those papers. I didn’t use my real name. I didn’t even label myself as female.  
Sneaking away to the restroom, I changed from my normal clothing to my dad’s white shirt and plaid pants. I wrapped linen fabric around my chest. Well, not like I needed to, I am complete flat down there. Finally, with the scissors, I cut tons of blonde hair off my head. I left my hair short and messy, yet away from my face. Once I wiped off the bit of makeup I had on, I took one good look at myself in the mirror. With no makeup, my pale skin and round face really showed. Piles of my blonde hair were on the ground, so I cleaned it all up.  
However, it seems like I make quite a lot of noise. A light behind me turned on. When I turned to see who it is, my mother and father were both there, petrified by what they saw. My mom begged to know what I was doing and my father was furious. I told them that I would not stand by as my brother is taken away from us. I said something I would quickly regret:  
“I am leaving for the military.”  
My mother cried out as she pulled me close, begging on her knees. Dad was in so much shock, it was like he couldn’t even move! I could see why they were upset. Nobody wants any of their kids to go to war, but especially their teenage daughter! My dad didn’t say anything. He just shook his head in sadness and left back to their bedroom.  
I tried to comfort my mother the best I can but to no avail. She just sat there crying. I didn’t know what to say. After a bit, the tears stopped and she looked up at me. I told her I was sorry, but it was too far now for me to turn back. I guided my mom back to her room and left to my own. Once I was alone in my room, I used my Polaroid Camera to take a photo of myself. The photo printed out instantly and I attached it to my papers. I left them on my desk and climbed into bed.  
I can’t sleep, which is why I now write to you, journal. I don’t know what lies ahead of me for tomorrow. I will write to you when I can.

Sincerely, Ginny  
November 15, 1964

There’s a Marine Corp recruiting station in Richmond. I snuck out early in the morning so nobody I knew could see me. I remember the heart wrenching process as I handed in my forged identity papers. The man looked me up and down, asking me tons of questions. I even did a ton of medical tests (which I passed) Finally, I recited an oath and signed a paper, confirming my spot as a recruit.  
So, he told me that on December 3rd, I was to report to this station. There would be a bus that would pick me and any other recruits up. I thanked him before riding my bike back home.  
I snuck into the house only to be confronted by Tom. His face spoke for him. “Ginny, what the- What is going on?!” I could tell that was rhetorical. Of course he knew what was happening. I simply said, “I’m sorry, but one of us is leaving and it ain’t you.”  
Tom was angry. This led to a huge argument with woke our parents up. Mom still cannot believe what I have done. But, at this point, it’s too late to turn back.

Sincerely, Ginny

November 16, 1964

The morning was a disaster. My parents were sobbing as they held me tight. Tom was so angry at my decision, he wouldn’t even talk. It felt like this was the last time I was ever going to see them. Maybe it is… who knows. I got down to the station around 7:00 A.M. I don’t remember what time we got on, but we did.  
On the bus, I sat down next to a man who looked a little older than me, maybe 22? He introduced himself as Sam Evans. Just like me, Sam volunteered for the marines. I told him about the situation with my family tradition. He simply smiled as I explained what who we are. After a while, we both grew silent with nothing more to say. While he is staring out the window of the bus for most of the time, I am writing to you. I’ve gotten this far into the journey, and I cannot back out of it now.  
REPORT: 2:32 PM. We have almost reached Parris Island. The instructor on the bus told us that when we get there, we will have the rest of the day to settle in. But tomorrow, we start training. I don’t know what the next 13 weeks will hold for me, but I cannot promise that I can write often. I’ll try the best I can, though. But as we approach Parris Island, my nerves begin to act up. I feel sick like I am about to vomit. I was so confident at first, but now…  
I don’t know what happened.

Sincerely, Ginny


	3. Act II: Parris Island

November 20, 1964

Three days ago, when we got to Parris Island, the first thing they did was teach us how to stand in formation. There’s probably about 50 men here! At least Sam is with me. He is the person I share a bunker with!  
Other than Sam, there’s Connor Nelson, a shy fella from Brooklyn. He made friends with Sam and me pretty quickly. The only other man we met was Lawrence Griffiths. He seemed like a friendly giant. A shy and intelligent young man. He was probably drafted for war. I can’t imagine a man like him volunteering to kill. The other men just leave to their own devices. Eventually, we all had a big meal later in the evening. After that, something happened I wasn’t expecting!  
They had a man come and shave everyone’s heads. Any hair we had left was tightly close to the scalp. That meant that I put in the effort to remove a majority of my hair only to have the last bit of it shaved off! Once that was done and over with, it was time for everyone to sleep. It was difficult at first, but after a while, I finally caved in and fell asleep. We spent about three days settling in.  
This morning, we were all woken up around 4 AM. I’ve never gotten up that early in my life. We fixed our sheets and got dressed in 15 minutes. After that, they made all of us line up. Our instructor was this man they call ‘Gunnery Sgt. Miller.’ He gave us a huge speech on what to expect. The Sgt. also introduced another DI, Sgt. Taylor. Taylor would go around the room and yell at each recruit. He’d insult them, yell at them, and just crack down on them hard. He got to me last, thankfully. The first thing he did was call me short. That makes sense, considering that I am only five feet and three inches. He gave each of us a nickname, stripping away all identity we had. Compared me to a dog, a Labrador Retriever to be exact. He called me “Recruit Retriever.”  
After that, it was nothing but exercise. Running, jumping, obstacle courses, and more. Sgt. Miller and Sgt. Taylor would yell and command us the entire time. It was just draining. Throughout the entire day, Sam stayed by my side, making sure we both got through this together. Even if boot camp is a nightmare, at least I have a friend with me.   
As the night comes to an end, we have only a couple of minutes before we were to supposed to be in our bunks. In these last few minutes, I write to you. I promise that I will keep you reported at the end of every week.

Sincerely, Mike  
(Since that is what they call me)

December 11, 1964

It has been only a few weeks of sixteen, but I see cracks in these men. Sgt. Miller particularly strikes down hard on Lawrence. I mean, cannot blame him. Lawrence doesn’t seem cut out for war to me. He’s just...too soft.   
Other than Lawrence, Sam seems to be a target. Unlike the former, he is more resilient to the abuse. Sam tells me that he’s taken this sort of treatment back at home. “My parents didn’t like me that much,” was what he would say. I do everything I can to keep the spirits alive. The men which came here, slowly but surely, they lose parts of themselves. Connor is acting more withdrawn. He was shy to begin with, and this is just adding fuel to the fire.   
As of me, they say that I have remained almost exactly the same. The only difference, to them, is that I am more determined. That may be true. I am not just determined to succeed with my physical self, but with my mind. I know the DIs’ job is to break us from average people to hardened killing machines. I know that the other men and me do not need this push. I’ll let this man break every bone in my body as long as long as he cannot break my mind. I refuse to become numb and dull. I keep this feeling alive in the others. When we get the chance, I boost the spirits of others. I make all conversations drift away from the military and back to our home lives. Am I helping the others? I do not know, but I am sure I am going to try.

Sincerely, Mike

December 18, 1964 

This past week has been a disaster. Just a couple of days ago, Lawrence went and made the most idiotic mistake. Sgt. Taylor made all of us recite what is known as the ‘Rifleman’s Creed.’ He also made us name our rifles after women. Unbeknownst to my colleagues, I named mine after myself; Virginia.   
Well, that was unnecessary information. Back to what I was saying, he makes us put the rifle over our left shoulder to recite. However, Lawrence accidentally put it over his right shoulder instead. This made Sgt. Taylor completely blow up. He went off the wall screaming at him, going as far as decking him in the face so hard that Lawrence fell to the ground. We all just had to watch as one of our own took the abuse. I can’t help but feel pity for the man.   
Some of the fellow men are talking about him behind his back. Sam and I listened to a recruit complain about how Lawrence is making the rest of the platoon look bad. They’ve even brought up the idea of hazing him when he was asleep. I’ve talked to both Sam and Connor about what they think. Sam is in a similar boat, so of course he feels terrible about it. Connor, on the other hand, is trying to avoid Lawrence. He doesn’t want to end up a victim of the Sgt.’s abuse as well. I can understand why, but I worry for Lawrence. What’s going to happen to him as the week goes on?   
So this morning, I decided to find Lawrence in the mess hall. When I actually talked to him again, something seemed...off. Unlike my first meeting with him, he didn’t look me in the eye. His voice was lower and softer, and clear dark circles showed around his eyes. Clearly, boot camp has taken a toll on his health.  
Before leaving, Lawrence gave me a comforting pat on the head. “You’re a kid, starry eyed and innocent. Do not change,” was what he said. That last part didn’t sound endearing when he said it. It was more like a command. I didn’t speak as I watched Lawrence leave to the other side of the room, alone.   
I noticed that last night, it took hours for him to sleep. I forced my body awake just to watch him toss and turn. I was exhausted just watching that. I eventually grew tired and had to sleep. Even after I went to bed, the poor man had yet to even try sleeping.   
The lack of sleep did show today. The area around his eyes were dark and his eyes themself lacked any focus. He already looks like he has seen the worst of war.   
If only there was a way for me to help him. 

Sincerely, Mike  
December 26, 1964

Yesterday was Christmas. Now, despite that, we didn’t get to celebrate at all. Other than having our time eating be slightly longer, there was nothing else. Lawrence seemed to get slightly better over the week. To everyone else, they do not notice a thing that I see. Though he is still numb, I have noticed improvement.  
I still worry for Lawrence, however. I notice that he still struggles to sleep. The men are getting really tired of his performance. I hear them talking about “beating the brains out of him.” They say that he would finally be a good soldier without his own cognitive thoughts. If they believe that, why don’t I just beat the crap out of them?   
It infuriates me when I think about those men. Sam and Connor are not like that. I would consider them some of the only men with humanity left. I hope we can keep it that way.   
Hell, even yesterday, they almost went through with a hazing. One man almost put a pillow over Lawrence’s face while he was asleep. They were even going to pour water on his face! It wasn’t until I spoke up that the haze stopped. My yelling caused the instructor to wake up and tell us all to go back to our bunks. I am glad I stopped them.  
As the third week comes to a close, I keep thinking about the future. Who knows if they will try to haze him again?

Sincerely, Mike

 

 

January 13, 1965

I am sorry I haven’t written to you in a while. The new year brought more training. On top of that, we’re all beginning to train in our specialities. Lawrence and I are riflemen (0311) , meaning that we’re taught together. Sam is a 0331, while Connor is a 0621. Lawrence’s behavior has gotten worse.  
It all started the day they beat the living daylights out of him. It was a punishment from Sgt. Miller. For the first time, Lawrence had talked back to the instructor.   
“Are you brain dead?!” I remember Sgt. Miller exclaiming, yelling in the face of poor Lawrence.   
“No! As a matter of fact, I believe that you are!” The younger man declared. He put out his chest in pride, but soon sunk as he saw the look on Sgt. Miller’s face.  
He blew up in anger! He punched Lawrence in the face. The punch was so hard, I heard the crack in his jaw. It even left a bruise! Sgt. Miller screamed in Lawrence’s face. He called the Recruit “a waste of the world.” I could even tell that Lawrence wanted to cry.  
It didn’t end there. The instructor turned to the other recruits. I felt a lump in my throat when I saw his face.   
“Men, beat the life out of the recruit. Show him what happens when you refuse to listen,” Sgt. Miller commanded, his voice low.   
For most of the men, this came without a second thought. Responding with a simple, “Sir, yes sir!” it took them no time to jump to Lawrence’s side. The Sgt. watched as they beat him down, leaving bruises everywhere. Whether it be his arm, his leg, his stomach, or even his face! I couldn’t even move.  
Sgt. Miller looked over at Lawrence. He was laying on the ground, marks covering his body and face. He was bleeding profusely from both his nose and his mouth. Then, the instructor turned to me.  
“Well, what are you waiting for? Beat the crap out of him!” he exclaimed, turning even redder than before. Without anyone to help me, I spoke up.  
I said that I was refusing to hurt him. That one sentence, however, sent me into a hellhole of punishment. He just screamed at me more and more. Bur before he could hit me as well, it seemed that an idea hit him. He turned to Lawrence, then back to me.  
“You have one hour to run 10 miles. For every extra minute it takes, that’s one minute of beating for Lawrence. NOW GET GOING!”   
Just like that, I took off running. Of course, it was going to be exhausting. But I knew in my heart that it was all worth it. I had to do it. It wasn’t just for me, or for my pals even. I knew that I had to do this for Lawrence. The running area was HUGE. It made up miles and miles of a road. Being in the middle of the forest meant that I was all alone.   
At the 50 minute mark, I still had 2 miles to go. I was exhausted. I knew, in my heart, that I had to keep going. I bit my tongue and kept moving forward. My heart was pumping in my ears. It wasn’t just the exhaustion from running. It was also the adrenaline of helping out an innocent man.   
Finally, just one minute before the hour ended, I reached Sgt. Miller. I saw a slight grin form on his face as he saw me run in from the running area. Finally, I skidded to a stop. Lawrence was still on the ground, groaning in pain.   
“There, ya happy?!” I exclaimed in pure frustration. Sgt. Miller slowly made his way over to me. I furrowed my brow as he loomed over me (I hate being short.) After what felt like forever, he spoke.  
“You made be a bit impulsive and dumb, but you’ve got perseverance. Hell, I like you, Recruit Retriever.” Then Sgt. Miller did something I didn’t expect. He gently placed a hand on my shoulder.   
“Take Dirtface with you back to the barracks and get some rest,” the instructor gestured over to Lawrence. With a loud, “Sir, yes sir,” I offered assistance to help Lawrence up.   
When we got back, everyone else had already showered and was getting ready for bed. Lawrence went straight to the showers. I went straight to the bunkers. (In case you wonder how I shower, I just learned to wait until everyone else is done.) I climbed onto the top bunk of the bunk I share with Sam. It took Lawrence another 20 minutes before he showed up. Everyone could see the bruises and marks they left on his body. The recruit refused to say a word. He just climbed into bed and fell asleep really quickly. Soon after, it was lights out, and we all were supposed to go to sleep.  
Well, I just couldn’t. My stomach twisted and turned. I didn’t even partake in the beating! Why on earth did I feel terrible?

Sincerely, Mike  
(P.S. My legs are still sore from running!)

 

 

January 27, 1965

Two days ago, Connor and me have been assigned with cleaning the bathrooms. I have no idea why. We haven’t gotten in trouble or anything. So while everyone else cleans the floors of the bunker rooms, we are by ourselves. I took this time to speak to Connor.  
“What happened while I was gone two weeks ago?” I looked over at him.  
“We just...talked about what happened. I wanted to help Lawrence. But, ya know, with Sgt. Miller outside watching you too…” He clearly felt bad about what happened. “I didn’t want to get in trouble. I hope Lawrence isn’t extremely hurt.”  
“By the looks of it, it seems he’s gotten better. Way better,” I decided to point out. It’s true though. Ever since the beating happened, Lawrence has...changed.  
He barely speaks anymore. I’ve tried to talk to him during meal times. Despite that, he just leaves. I do not know what is going on.  
“I think Lawrence might be a section eight,” I blurted out. I do not know why I said it, but I did. Section eights are not mentally fit for the job. If he is that, then he might be kicked out. Despite this, Connor did not seem concerned at all.   
“I think you just worry too much, Mike,” the man shrugged. Maybe he’s right. Well, not exactly. I have my reasons to be concerned. He told me to brush the incident off, and believe me, I’ve tried. I am still trying.   
Well, none of that is important. Only about one more month to go, and then I am out of here. I’ll write to you when I can. 

Sincerely, Mike

February 13, 1965

I know nobody else knew this, but Sam told me that it’s his birthday today. It must feel terrible spending a day like that away from your loved ones. When I told him that, he said that at least he has his buddies. I guess that was comforting.   
Well, other than that, things haven’t been going well. Connor is starting to get concerned over Lawrence as well. He’s stopped talking. His face is blank and emotionless. The only time his eyes seem to dilate is when he’s firing his rifle. I even spoke to Sgt. Taylor this morning.   
“He’s just beginning to shape up, Recruit Retriever. Now I think you should too!” I don’t think he’s ever said something like that about Lawrence. It doesn’t feel right.  
I do not know how I should feel about these changes. If you ask me, I think Lawrence is beginning to break down.

Sincerely, Mike

February 28, 1965

As training starts to come to a close, I can reflect on how I grew. Sam and Connor have become two of my closest friends. I see Sgt. Miller flash a small grin every time I do something right. Whether I am firing a gun, completing an obstacle, or just running fast enough. I think that the 15-mile run really impressed him!  
I only have to make it 5 more days, and then we leave the island! Part of me is super excited. I will finally be out of here and doing what I came here to do; fighting. But at the same time, I feel a pit in my gut. What will happen if I die? What if I die in the fields of war? I’ll just be another number in the casualties. One day, there might be a bullet with my name on it… No, that’s not true.  
I know myself well enough to know that I will be alright. This isn’t just for me. I’m doing this for my family, for my country, for the men beside me, and for my friends. 

As the day approaches, the pit in my gut gets tighter. 

Sincerely, Mike

 

 

March 5, 1965

My life just went from good to terrible, and to great all in a span of one night. Just... allow me to explain.   
It was March 4, the day of our graduation. We woke up that morning as easy as can be. We knew today was not going to be everything we learned. The night beforehand, the sergeants told us that we were going to see our families.   
It’s tradition for families to see their son graduate at boot camp on graduation day. I knew that this meant; I was going to see my family for the first time in 13 weeks! So I woke up with morning, clearly excited.   
That day was amazing. When it was time for graduation, everyone was there! I saw hundreds of faces in the audience. I saw mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters. Finally, my eyes came to a stop as I saw my family. I saw my mom, my dad, Tom, even my Grandpa Eddie! I couldn’t wait to talk to them.  
That day, I was granted the rank of United States Marine! Finally, as the graduation came to a close, we were all allowed to see our families. Sam and I saw me sprint from across the open track straight into my parents’ hugs.   
“Mom! Dad! Tom! Grandpa Eddie!” I admit, I cried a little bit there. My parents were so excited to see me. But out of my family, Tom seemed the happiest of all.   
“Mike! It’s amazing to see you, little brother!” I saw him wink when he called me ‘Mike’ and ‘brother.’ As my family talked not just to other families, but to my fellow recruits, Grandpa Eddie pulled me to the side.  
“Ginny,” his voice was silent as to not raise any suspicion on my name. “I know I never told you about the military. I was going to, but now I know I don’t need to. You are like me when I was young; wide eyed and innocent. Please, just don’t end up like me,” he gestured down to the wheelchair he was in. I told him that I will be okay. With a gentle smile, he pulled me into a hug.   
As the day came to a close, the recruits watched all of the families drive off before Sgt. Miller spoke.  
“Men, I am very proud of all of you. You have done amazing for the past sixteen weeks. Now, tomorrow morning, we are leaving. Now, go get some sleep. I will see you all in the morning.” And just like that, we were all sent to the bunkers.   
Everyone was talking about their families. Sam was telling me about how only his father came to see him. He said that, “My mother and I have a rough relationship…” I didn’t know what to say about that. I also asked Lawrence about his family. He just responded, in a monotone voice, that they showered him with love that afternoon. Clearly, the way he spoke made everyone a little bit uncomfortable. Finally, we all washed up, and were ready to sleep.   
Well, that’s where the good part ends.  
2:30 AM: I woke up in the middle of the night, wide awake. I have no idea why, but it just happened. I decided to sit up and look around me. Something caught my eye; Lawrence was missing from his bunker. That puzzled me. Where could he be? I don’t know if it was my curiosity or my impulsivity, but I did what nobody should do in this situation.  
I got out of bed.   
In a desperate attempt to not wake up the other recruits, I forced myself to move as slowly as possible. Quietly, I moved around the rooms, looking for Lawrence. Bathroom? No. Mess hall? No. Bunkers? No. Showers? No. That only left one option; outside.   
My heart pounded so hard, I believe it was the linen fabric that I used to bind that kept it from bursting from my chest. I cracked the door open ever so slightly, taking a peek outside. I saw Lawrence standing there, back facing me. So, I completely went outside, closing the door behind me.  
“Lawrence,” I called out. No answer.  
“Lawrence? What is going on?” I approached him. “If Sgt. Miller catches us, we will be in hell!” As I placed my hand on his shoulder, Lawrence spoke.  
“I am already in hell.”  
He turned around to look at me. As a reference, Lawrence is 6’5 while I am 5’3. Clearly we could tell who the bigger man was. His eyes were sunken in from sleep deprivation. His face was pale and gaunt. I looked down from his face to see the real problem; the gun. Lawrence had his gun in hand. Was it loaded? I didn’t know, and I decided to ask.   
“Lawrence, is that gun...loaded?” I gulped, taking a step back as he stepped forward. “Full magazine,” was all he responded with. I stepped back again.  
“Take it easy, Lawrence. You don’t know what you’re doing,” I tried to reason with Lawrence. He didn’t respond. Instead, he did the one thing I was hoping he would not do.   
Lawrence aimed the gun straight at my face.   
Now, I have made many mistakes in my life. Yet I never thought that those mistakes would lead up to this moment. Everything around us came to a stop as I stared down the barrel of that rifle. I wanted to scream, to run, to cry, to fight back! I wanted to live! I wanted to escape that moment! Yet I couldn’t.  
“Lawrence, I am your friend. We can make it through this together,” I once again tried to reason with him. Slowly, I stuck my hand out. I just hoped that we would stop. If I die, then I am dying for my friend.   
What felt like forever finally ended as Lawrence dropped the rifle. He lifted his hand as if he were to take mine. As I went in for a firm handshake, Lawrence gripped my hand tight. I fell straight into a hug from the larger man. I could tell he was crying as I felt my shoulder become wet with tears. I didn’t speak. I just let this man cry into my shoulder. Finally, we both went silent. I picked up the gun.  
“Come on, Lawrence. We have to go to bed,” was all I said. He merely nodded as we snuck back inside. I watched Lawrence put the gun back in his footlocker before slipping into bed, falling asleep instantly. I soon followed.   
This morning, everyone was silent as they woke up. The only sounds I heard were the sounds of men shuffling around. We all had to get dressed quickly. The plane taking us was to arrive in 10 minutes. Clearly, that caused some slight panic. During the chaos, I was pulled to the side by Sgt. Miller.   
“Sir, what do you need, sir?” I asked in my usual, monotone voice.   
Sgt. Miller fought back a grin. He told me that he was not only proud of me, but of everyone else. He said that over these weeks, I proved my determination and fighting spirit. Finally, he told me to keep an eye on the platoon. He said that, “They’re gonna need it.” I simply smiled and said, “Thank you, sir.” Before joining everyone else by the plane, bags in hand.   
As I got on the plane, I waved goodbye to the drill instructor. As the bottom slowly closed up, I watched him mouth the motto of the Marine Corps to me;

Semper Fidelis.

Sincerely, Mike

 

 

March 7, 1965

The plane landed in San Diego yesterday. We all stepped out right by the ocean. I remember watching Sam flash a grin of accomplishment to me.  
“Well, Retriever. It looks like we did it. We survived boot camp,” he offered me a high five. Yeah, it was a relief. We did survive (even though I was nearly shot in the face.) Well, that wasn’t the end of the trip.   
There were crafts in the beaches. Along with that, many marines from San Diego were among us. Two major ships were to take us; one for each battalion. I gripped onto this journal and my pen as I we waited on the beaches, ready to board. Once the ship was completely ready, we made our way on board.  
The ship was huge. By huge, I mean huge! I’m talking like, hundreds of men could fit on there! Our entire battalion was able to fit on there and we STILL had enough room! I was the last man on board, taking one last look at America. Never would I have thought I would leave here so soon…  
Well, that is in the past. The exits of the craft closed up, meaning that there was no going back.  
If I could describe the trip overseas so far in one word, I would choose boredom. We have nothing to do but to eat and talk to each other. Hell, even talking gets tiring! I’ve stayed close to my three friends from Parris Island. Yet, things have been awkward since we left, mostly with Lawrence. It’s probably because I nearly died at his hand. Luckily, it appears he has been on the road to recovery from his, well, accident.   
I’ve tried getting closer to Connor during this time. I believe I could get closer to him if I tried. So, while Lawrence and Sam were chatting away, I decided to talk to Connor.   
I remember asking him, “What made you join the marines?” He looked away when I said that.  
“Better treatment than the treatment my family back home in New York. Ya know, with equal treatment and such,” Connor slid down in his seat. It made sense that he wanted to leave for a place to be treated equally. Many black folks are treated like trash around the states. There’s a movement and politics and everything. I didn’t say anything else. That is, until he asked me why I was here.  
“Well, I volunteered in place of my brother. Mom and Dad didn’t want to see him go,” I sighed, thinking of Tom. “I miss him, Connor. I miss Mom, Dad, and Grandpa Eddie. I miss my aunt and uncle and all my friends. I don’t know if I am ever gonna see them again.”  
“Don’t say that, Retriever.” Connor placed a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got people who care about you; both in and out of the marines. Sam, Lawrence, and I? We got your back through this, and I know you’ve got ours.”  
I couldn’t help but smile at that. Yeah, Connor’s right. I care about my friends here. I know they care about me. It’s not just my family I am fighting for anymore.  
After a brief minute of silence, Sam called us over for a meal. Connor simply gave me a crooked grin as we both got up. Man, I think I am gonna enjoy it here.

Sincerely, Mike


	4. Act III: Vietnam

March 8, 1965

I think the sea is making me sick. I’ve been on this boat for three days now. I have no idea how much longer we are going to be here. From what I know, the time is 8:13 A.M. I haven’t really talked to anyone outside of my friends from Parris Island.  
Sam told me that he may be getting sick too. I remember seeing him last night. He was leaning over the side of the ship. When he turned and looked at me, it was clear he was vomiting. Yeah, none of us are having a good time here.  
Well, I think I am going to get some sleep, I will report back when I can.  
4:52 P.M: A lot has happened since the last time I wrote to you. When I stopped writing, Sam called me over to the exit of the ship.  
What I saw left me in shock. Land; we were almost at land! We glanced at each other in pure excitement and ran to grab our supplies. I grabbed my bag (what we call “Tactical Backpacks”) I also grabbed my helmet, my canteen of water, and most importantly, my journal. Around nine this morning, I felt the motion of the ship come to a stop. Along with a bunch of the other men, I ran to the side of the ship to look ashore. We were here! We were actually here in Vietnam! I saw hundreds of advisors and citizens. They were holding signs, welcoming us, smiles on their faces. I couldn’t help but wave at the people on the beach.  
When the door lowered down, I was one of the first to step off. I grabbed Sam by the wrist and dragged him off the ship. We both landed face first into the edge of the water, taking a mouthful of sand in the process.  
I got up from the sand, coughing up sand and salt water. “I can’t believe it! We’re here!” I exclaimed. Sam pulled me into a celebratory hug.  
“We did it, little Retriever. We made it.”  
Connor and Lawrence were right behind us. Lawrence gave me a slight grin as they walked by. He knocked my helmet down over my eyes, just as a little gesture. I didn’t understand why.  
As everyone was slowly making their way off the ship, I was approached by a woman. Her hair was pulled back in two pigtails and she had a camera around her shoulders. I simply assumed she was a photographer.  
She introduced herself as Katie. Apparently, she was working with a magazine in the U.S about the war, and she wanted to take a photo of me for the cover! I nodded, grinning ear to ear.  
The photo wasn’t just me. I was with Sam as well. We had our arms around each other’s shoulders, and we were laughing. I love that photo. I got to see it when she was done. The two of us looked like lifelong friends. I loved it.  
We all got off the ship, and a man who I could only assume was a military advisor took control. He led the battalion into the jungles. It felt like we were walking for hours. Sam, Connor, and Lawrence were right by my side. We talked about anything; boot camp, our thoughts, life back home.  
I avoided life back at home. They couldn’t know that. If they did, they’d know my secret. When they asked me about home, I told them that it wasn’t important.  
“Private Gray, always a man of mystery,” Sam chuckled, provoking a smirk from me. I guess that is true. Finally, we came to this clearing area. Tents lined up everywhere, like people were there. The advisor explained that this is where we would be staying. I watched amazed as we all trudged out of the jungle into the clearing.  
Tents were lined up in the hundreds. I saw what looked like an Air Base behind our tents. It was just incredible! Sam and I glanced at each other in awe. We didn’t get a tent just yet. There was this whole processing thing we did. It was sort of an awkward introduction, to sum it up. An advisor assigned Sam and I in different tents. I still had Connor with me. Lawrence wasn’t with me either. He was probably off with some other guys in our platoon. There were probably two other men in our tent who I didn’t know very well. We all dropped down our bags and took a quick break. I flopped down next to Connor, who was laying on the floor.  
“Can’t believe it, fellas. We’re here,” he sighed under his breath. Well, now that we were here, what now?  
I simply glanced over at my friend. After a brief moment of silence, another man opened the tent.  
“Hey fellas. They need everyone outside,” he spoke. He introduced himself as Cpl. Bailey. I could tell he was a higher up. He had the patch to show it. Connor and I, along with the two others, all got up and left the tent. I don’t remember what they wanted us for, though. My mind has been filled all day. Now, I am just letting everything out onto this paper. Because it is getting dark, I have to close for today. I’ll write back when I can. 

Sincerely, Retriever  
(Since that’s what they’re calling me) 

March 14, 1965

Today started out like any other. I woke up slightly earlier than everyone else. So, I got up and went to the latrine (it’s basically a restroom but outdoors.) I was back in my tent before we had to wake up, so nobody knew I left. After the ruckus when we woke up, there was a meal. I didn’t eat much, honestly. My stomach just felt too full. I remember looking around at my fellow GIs. They were average men, just like me. Well, not just like me, I ain’t a man. In these three months, I had nearly forgotten that I’m not really a man. I guess it’s easy when your mind is occupied by the thought of death.  
Once breakfast was over, that was when the real work began. We were all put into these different squads. There are about 13 guys in my squad. This time around, I had all three of my buddies with me. We were one of the three fireteams. There were two other teams, and then our squad leader. I noticed that Cpl. Bailey was in another team on our squad. I didn’t recognize anyone else, though. After we were settled in, our leader set off, having the rest of us follow him.  
(P.S. I read the name on his pocket. S. Howard is his name apparently. I wonder what the S stands for. Also, he’s a lieutenant. I can tell my his patch. Seen multiple like it.)  
The day was very monotonous. It felt like we were walking for 15 hours straight! Lt. Howard said that our goal was to search and destroy any ‘Charlies.’ I asked Sam what that means. He said he didn’t know. Must be a name for Vietnamese folk. Not that it matters.  
I got to see a lot of the countryside, though! There were lots of farmers working in fields by where we were searching. I saw a few kids run by the roads, laughing and playing. It was like they didn’t have a care in the world.  
I remember being like that. Before all of this, well, whatever this is. I wish I could go back sometimes. I know I can’t, though. My mind felt like it wandered off into a dark place after that event.  
My mind ran for the rest of the day. We didn’t get back to base until rather late at night, right before we were to be asleep. My thoughts raced as I slowly drifted off to sleep. The thoughts were horrid.  
What is it going to be like the first time I kill someone? What does it feel like to be shot, or stabbed, or ambushed? What does it feel like to see your friends in pain?  
What does it feel like to die? 

Sincerely, Retriever

 

March 19, 1965

It’s been a few days since I last wrote. I’m not crazily busy, to be honest. Nothing exciting ever happens on our search patrols. It’s just walking and hearing your heart jump to your ears. Nothing exciting.  
Lt. Howard is a very uptight man. He’s strict, but anxious. Something tells me he has experienced war before. He’s older, and has a look that shows he’s seen the worst of the worst. I asked the other soldiers if they know anything. All they say to me is, “He’s got The Thousand Yard Stare.”  
After that patrol, I spoke to a photographer who was near our camp in Da Nang. It was the same one from the beach; Katie. She explained to me that a thousand yard stare came from a painting from World War II. Apparently, if you are in war for too long, your expressions become blank.  
That won’t happen to me. It can’t. Even the other soldiers say that I lack it. They say, “I don’t know how this kid is going to pull through, but he will.”  
I’ve made myself a reputation among the troops as of late. Apparently, my ‘fierce determination’ combined with ‘my lack of a social life’ gave people a reason to keep me around. Well, at least for now.  
An older marine asked me why they call me Retriever. I just said, “A multitude of reasons.” Really, I am just good at searching. Also, I’m shorter than the others. Plus, Sgt. Miller would call me impulsive, yet loyal; kind of like a dog. That’s what they say, at least.  
Well, doesn’t really matter in all honesty. We all had ridiculous nicknames at one time or another. However, I think this one’s going to be staying.

Sincerely, Retriever

March 22, 1965

Today, my patrol was attacked for the very first time.  
It all happened in an instant. It started off as an average day. You know, trudging through the jungle, the sun beating down on my face. The guys and I were a sweaty mess. I rolled up my sleeves in an attempt to allow air to reach my arms. However, there was no avail.  
Cpl. Bailey noticed that I had been staring down for God knows how long. So, he spoke to me.  
“Hey, chin up Retriever. We got a mission to complete.” I slightly grinned as he patted my back before speeding up. Cpl. Bailey is a nice man. He’s like an older brother to all of the privates, like me. At the HQ, he talks about his wife and life back home in Georgia.  
(Also, his wife is an Navy Corpsman! Who'd've thought?)  
I was going to ask him a question. Don’t remember what it was. All I remember is the sound of bullets flying past our ears.  
I heard Lt. Howard exclaim something that sounded like, “GET DOWN!” Whether is was from the command or just the pure shock, I landed face down into the jungle floor. I almost hit my head on a rock.  
The bullets kept coming as I pulled my rifle to my chest. I could barely hear. My heart was pounding too heavily in my ears. Quickly, I dove behind a tree log that had fallen over.  
“Sir! What do we do?!” I heard Connor ask Lt. Howard. Under all the gun fire, they somehow spoke in a calm, yet demanding tone.  
“Well, fire back! That’s what we do!” Both of them took aim and fired back into the jungle. I didn’t see who was firing at us, but somebody was. Cpl. Bailey and I followed the instructions and let out guns shoot out into the treeline. One by one, the gunfire from enemy lines stopped. As the jungle came silent, Lt. Howard made a quick examination for any injuries.  
Sam almost twisted his leg after tripping over the log of a fallen tree. Other than that, everyone else was just in a state of shock.  
It was just one fight, yet I felt exhausted. I have no idea what happened, yet it did. It was my first ever jungle fight.  
I helped Sam on the way back to camp. In the shock and his near injury, Sam couldn’t speak. I don’t blame him. What started as a simple patrol ended in possible death. Well, I think we got lucky this time.

Sincerely, Retriever  
(P.S. My hair has been growing back since I was shaved at the island)

 

March 31, 1965

Ever since the jungle gunfight, Sam has barely spoken. I think he is still shaken up from what happened. He had gotten better in the last two days. He can hold a conversation, barely.  
Connor has been talking to Lawrence a bunch lately. I think Lawrence may have told him about the, well, incident on the island. I just hope he didn’t say that it was me he nearly shot! Other than that, Lawrence has been the same as on the island; quiet, pulled back, and honestly, really freaky. He just makes me… uncomfortable.  
Outside of the search patrols, Cpl. Bailey and I have been put together for little assignments. Nothing major. It’s just like “Scope out this area” or “Deliver a message to the nearby camp.” In this time, I have really gotten to know Cpl. Bailey. Here’s what I’ve learned.  
His real name is Charles. He lived in Atlanta his whole life. His wife’s name is Lisa. She works with the nearby Marine camp.  
I dismissed every question Cpl. Bailey had about my life. I couldn’t answer. One wrong slip, and my entire secret is revealed.  
I’ve been staying up late. Sleep is restless and does no good. The only time I’ve slept well since I have been here was thanks to pure exhaustion.  
The Thousand Yard Stare has been haunting me constantly. I try to put the idea out of my head by any means. I write, I read, I even find myself drawing on extra pieces of paper. Sam has caught on to my neurotic behavior.  
“Jeez, Pvt. Retriever. When are you going to give it a break? You’re just writing constantly,” he gave a slight grin to himself.  
I said to him, “In a world where a bullet can go through my head at any moment, this journal is like safety.”  
Seeing my devotion to my writing, Sam backed off. I’m glad he did. Though, he did ask to see a page or two. I had to turn him down, sadly.  
There’s too much in here that belong to me and me alone.

Sincerely, Retriever

 

April 3, 1965

I’m not tired. Nope, not tired. I’m not in physical pain thanks to my writing. Who cares that I am forcing my eyes awake to write to you. I don’t care that it’s 1 A.M. I am not tired…  
Crap, I need sleep.  
REPORT: I knocked out cold after finishing that sentence last night. I woke up thanks to Connor shaking me wide awake this morning.  
“Jeez, man. I thought you were dead for a second,” he raised a brow before putting on his glasses. “Come on, we’re going outside.” I got up from my sleeping bag and buttoned up my military jacket. Grabbing my dog tags and quickly sliding on my boots, Connor and me stepped out of the tent.  
We all entered the air base behind our tents for our meal. Being honest, the food is disgusting. I always find myself eating a C-Ration. It’s the closest thing I’ve got to food like back home. Cpl. Bailey sat down next to me.  
“Vietnam is taking a toll on ya, eh?” the corporal chuckled. I simply sighed. Yeah, I guess you could say that. I try to remember why I am here. I’m here to serve my country. I am here to carry on a family tradition. I am here for my family and my friends. Well, those who I thought were family and friends. Now, I’m not so sure.  
The rest of the day was the same as always. Patrol, searched for enemy soldiers, and try to survive…

Sincerely, Retriever  
April 26, 1965

(During this time, I sent a letter home to my family. This is what the letter read.)

To my parents and relatives,  
It’s been months since I’ve seen you. I do not know how long I will be overseas. My world has been flipped upside down ever since I left Richmond.  
No worries, I’ve met many soldiers who fight by my side. Sam is my best friend. I would be willing to join him in any battle. Connor and Lawrence; I both met at Parris Island. Wonderful individuals, I say. Cpl. Bailey and Lt. Howard; my bosses. Everyone I’ve met; wouldn’t change it for the world.  
I hope Tom is doing well ever since I left for ‘nam. This country is the trophy of Southeast Asia. I haven’t gotten to see the city of Da Nang. However, one can hope.  
I hope to return home completely unharmed. Until we meet again. 

Your son,  
Mike

(I have yet to get a letter from them. Hopefully, the letter will come soon.)

 

May 17, 1965

I apologize for the long wait. Nothing interesting happens often. It’s usually us just walking, searching, and the occasional gunfight. Luckily, or not, something actually happened.  
During one of our searches, the air became VERY humid. This country is just usually extremely warm, but nothing like this before. My face was completely burning up, my cheeks rosy. Jeez, it was hot. I went through the last of my water canteen in that patrol.  
Believe me, my face burning up was the least of our problems. Poor Connor looked exhausted. It looked like he was holding his head in pain. I think the heat was giving him a headache. Not only that, but he was also carrying all of the heavy equipment that radio operators carry. Despite red cheeks, the rest of his face looked flushed out. Connor was stumbling, desperate to keep his balance. Lt. Howard turned around and noticed this all.  
“Pvt. Nelson, what’s going on? This isn’t the time for messing around!”  
Connor didn’t response. After a few shallow breaths, he collapsed to the ground, face first. Realization set in for all of us, and Lt. Howard quickly came to his side.  
Sam and Lawrence quickly offered assistance, helping to lift the unconscious Connor from the ground. I had no idea what was happening, but before I could ask, Lt. Howard told us that we were returning to the base, now. On the way back, I asked Cpl. Bailey about it.  
“What happened with Connor? Is he just tired?” I was concerned, I had the right to be. Cpl. Bailey shook his head.  
“It’s worth than that, Pvt. Retriever. He’s suffering from a sunstroke. Too much heat, so he passed out.”  
Yep, my worries were right.  
“Well, is he going to be alright?” I noticed that our squad picked up the pace.  
“I do not know.”  
“What do you mean you do not know?”  
“What I mean,” Cpl. Bailey turned to me. “Is that sunstroke can be fatal. As long as we manage to regulate his body temperature and lower it slow enough to not cause shock, he will be fine. Now get moving.”  
Cpl. Bailey turned away and kept walking, leaving me to my thoughts. I simply sighed and kept on walking. I had to.  
We got back to the base about ten minutes later. Lt. Howard instantly took Connor to the medical area. Explaining what happened, the medic nodded and helped him inside. Sam, Lawrence and I all watched on from the distance.  
“Welp, looks like he’ll be out of service for a while,” Sam joked. He received a well-deserved punch in the shoulder.  
“Do you think he’ll die?” Lawrence asked, lowering his voice so nobody could hear us. I shook my head.  
“Connor is way above dying of sunstroke of all things! He’ll be fine!” A forced a grin on my face. Yeah, it was not fun, I did it anyway. “We have to think better about this situation, guys! Think of it; when Connor gets better, this will be an awesome story for him to tell!”  
Sam nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Retriever’s right. Connor will be just fine.”  
The brief moment of silence allowed Cpl. Bailey to call us back over to our platoon. As I joined the other members of our team, I had one amazing thought.  
Well, this incident might give him a cool nickname!

Retriever  
(I ain’t writing sincerely. My name is just easier)

June 1, 1965

I’ve got way too much news.  
First things first; Connor’s alive. Yep, he’s fine. After being bedridden for three days thanks to the stroke, he was able to walk again. It took another week before he joined us again on our patrols. But yeah, he’s fine.  
On top of that, we’ve all been earning these “nicknames.” Connor has been called ‘Sunstroke’ thanks to the sunstroke he had last month. He likes the name, actually.  
On his fireteam, Sam is in charge of the submachine gun. The man can bring hell to Charlies. His latest bombardment had given him the nickname ‘Barrage.’  
I once again proved my name as Retriever. During a firefight near a Vietnamese village, I saw tons of the innocent men and women (and kids) run from the village. After seeing a child fall from the gunfire, I sprinted as fast as I could over to him. Under the protection of my squadmates, I helped the kid up and carried him to his family. When he was pulled into his mother’s arms, I grabbed my M14 and charged back into the fight. Apparently, my tracking is what gives me my nickname as well.  
Lawrence, however, earned his nickname the exact opposite way. He didn’t save tons of lives; he took them.  
On May 26, we encountered Viet Cong guerillas who had our squad surrounded. In the fight, two of our squadmates were shot. Our fireteam medic, along with another medic, carried them out of the line of fire while the battle carried on.  
Sam managed to kill one or two soldiers. I had my first ever confirmed kill in that battle! Connor, who was protecting the medics helping soldiers, killed possible two . Lawrence, on the other hand, wiped the floor with their arses.  
We don’t know how many Lawrence killed, but I do know is that it was a bunch. Bodies were scattered across the jungle floor, blood smeared across his face. It was gross, but amazing. It was a massacre, beyond words. From that moment forward, we called him “Hunter.” It fits him.  
Lawrence doesn’t talk much, but that’s okay. I know the island turned him into this. Despite all of that, he’s still my friend. Not just him, but Sam and Connor too. All of us together. We’re just brothers fighting for liberty. My whole squad is-  
Liberty Brothers. That sounds like a good squad name, don’t you think?

Retriever 

June 25, 1965

It’s my birthday.  
Nobody knows that, of course. I lied about my age to get in! But now, I am officially an adult! I have to bite my tongue and not tell anyone. Nobody wants a kid to spend their birthday nearly dying!  
Well, Cpl. Bailey tried to figure it out. He knew something was up. He has this, thing, where he reads people very easily. So, Cpl. Bailey asked me.  
“Something up, Retriever? You seem more restless than usual.”  
“Ah, not a thing, Corporal. I think I’m just tired.”  
He looked over at me suspiciously, but didn’t say anything else.  
I’ve been very busy lately, so I do not believe I can write to you as often anymore. I’ll try to write at least once a month.

Retriever  
July 17, 1965  
Here is my monthly report:  
Lawrence was nearly shot during a patrol last week. I swear, there must be some sniper around here hunting marines down. Well, crap happens.  
For a few days every month, we get what they call “R and R.” Basically, we relax for a few days at some hidden camp. There, we drink, play cards, and sleep. It’s sort of nice to get away from the gunfire, blood, and death every once in a while. I met a lady there while on break. She came in, drinks in hand. I barely took a sip before throwing my drink out. I haven’t tried alcohol before, and now I see why. It tastes purely awful!  
I decided to strike up a conversation with the girl when she was finished. Her name was Sarah, and she was there with the Red Cross. We talked for a while, don’t know how long. Eventually, some older fellows called her over and she had to leave.  
I ran into Katie once again. I wonder why it keeps happening. She was at the base taking photos for whatever company she works for. I noticed that she tends to bite her lower lip when focusing on a photo.  
It’s hard to describe Katie; she’s tall, light brown hair, and wears glasses. Actually, she’s a very nice woman. I can tell she’s friendly with everyone.  
Other than the drinks, we talk and sometimes watch live shows. There were all these girl performers breaking these fellas’ hearts (not literally.) Cpl. Bailey really likes the breaks. He says that they, “give him the chance to grow closer with his fellow marines.”  
Well, that is all I have this month for the month. I’ll write to you when I get the chance. 

Retriever  
(P.S. I actually brought up the idea of The Liberty Brothers to my squad. Now that’s what we’re being called!) 

August 20, 1965

Katie approached me last week. She asked if The Liberty Brothers would come with her to Da Nang to be interviewed. Being honest, I was very excited about that! Lt. Howard, on the other hand, was not as excited. He told Katie, “My recruits have more important things to do than talk to cameras!” As a matter of fact, he seemed pretty upset about it.  
I mustered up the courage to talk to Lt. Howard in private. He’s just like how he is in public, honestly. He told me about his daughter, who’s a corpsman in the Navy. A corpsman in the Navy, huh? Sounded a little… familiar to me. It all clicked when I asked her name. Her name?  
“Lisa.”  
Cpl. Bailey’s wife is Lt. Howard’s daughter! It doesn’t make sense, but it does! I’m shocked!  
Welp, that just happened! I don’t know what else to say!

Retriever

September 12, 1965

Guess who’s been promoted! After six months in the field, I am no longer a Private. Not just me; anyone in my platoon was promoted. Instead of being a Private, I am a Private First Class (What we call a PFC) Also, I’m being paid more now! That means more money for killing Charlies!  
Cpl. Bailey congratulated me after the promotion! He said that I’m growing rapidly in my skill as a marine. I guess that could be true, I say that I’m a very good soldier. But, the people I’ve killed, I remember each of their faces. Something about them was… awful. Before Vietnam, the idea of killing another human had never crossed my mind. Am I feeling guilty?  
No, I mustn’t. They aren’t human, they’re simply the enemy.  
Are they?

Retriever

October 7, 1965

There was a gunfight near the Latrine today. It was absolutely awful. We woke up to the sound of gunfire this morning. In the panic, I grabbed my rifle and my helmet. Running out into the fire, guns were blazing. The sound of the rifles sniping marines down, one by one; it’s horrifying.  
Cpl. Bailey ordered me over to cover. I slid down behind the tent by his side. Lt. Howard was there too. As they argued over our next plan, I watched the battle go on.  
I saw Barrage, blood smeared across his face like paint. He stood victorious in the gunfire. His machine gun fired through the trees, killing countless Viet Cong soldiers. I saw Connor, demanding reinforcements over the phone. The sight was horrid. I saw Lawrence, strangling a man to death with his own hands. He took the knife from his belt and stabbed the soldier in the throat. Lawrence licked the blood from the knife and saw me. Dear God, I wanted to vomit.  
I heard Lt. Howard command me to charge, so I did. Cpl. Bailey and I ran into the fire, guns blazing. A bullet went right through one of those Charlie’s eyes. I saw the men flee to the tree line, screaming in a language I did not know. Sweat dripped down my face, and my vision was blurry. I couldn’t see what was going on for a few minutes. All I knew was that I had to kill. The last of the Viet Cong ran off, leaving the surviving marines alone.  
It was an utter genocide. I saw countless bodies scattered across the camp. Medics from every platoon and every squad helped count the dead. 24 men dead, and another 14 injured, including Sam.  
Sam had been stabbed in the leg. Luckily, no major veins or arteries had been hit. I find it strange; the men in The Liberty Brothers keep finding themselves in a deadly situation, yet turn out fine. I bet Lawrence is going to be next. Maybe Cpl. Bailey?  
No, Cpl. Bailey is too strong for that. He’s one of the best guys I know. I’m proud to have him controlling our squad. He’s a good man. The whole squad is.  
I won’t let anything separate The Liberty Brothers. Not even death.

Retriever

December 16, 1965

This is likely my last journal entry of the year. It’s been over a year since I joined the marines. It’s been a bumpy ride, honestly. Now that this is 1965’s last entry, I should look back on all that has happened in the year.  
I met three of my best friends. Sam, Connor, and Lawrence. They are amazing men. I wouldn’t exchange them for the world.  
I met Lt. Howard and Cpl. Bailey. Cpl. Bailey is so friendly to everyone. He’s like my father, only younger. Lt. Howard must be proud his daughter married a man like Bailey. I wonder if I’ll ever meet her one day.  
Katie Roberts the photojournalist. I ran into her in Da Nang while I had some time off. Dear God, she’s great. She’s friendly, intuitive, and creative. I hope she never gives up that side of her.  
I miss my family, too. Mother sent me a letter last week. The letter read:  
To my youngest son, Mike,  
It’s been a year since we had seen you. Tom misses you dearly. Father and I do too. I sincerely hope that nothing terrible has happened to you in Vietnam. I wish you the best of luck.  
Your mother,  
Ruth Gray  
(P.S. I think you need to see this photo)

I opened up the rest of the letter and watched a photograph fall out. Carefully, I picked it up from the floor. What I saw was almost breathtaking.  
It was my parents. Not now, but when they were like me; young, bright eyed, and not a care in the world. My father was in the sailor outfit he wore back in the navy. My mother, she was wearing a uniform that I recognized. A navy nurse corp uniform. Suddenly, everything made sense.  
My mother was like me; a female military personnel. Maybe this is why she hated the idea of me going off to war. Maybe she knows something I don’t…  
No, what am I saying? I love my mother, but she isn’t always right.  
Well, this is my send off for you, 1965. I will see you next year, my dear journal.

Retriever

January 12, 1966

Hello, 1966. Since the new year, I have some very exciting news!  
The Liberty Brothers are going on an operation. It’s a whole special operation. You probably do not understand, you’re a journal. So, allow me to explain.  
Thanks to some lucky information being spilt, our battalion has gained some very important personnel. The Viet Cong nearby here plan to attack an American Marine camp in an attempt to weaken our defenses. If they manage to wipe out that camp, all that would be left is us! So, our regiment’s captain is trusting not just our platoon, but The Liberty Brothers specifically on this operation. The guys and I call it Operation Information. We are tasked with making it through heavily defended Vietnamese territory and bring soldiers and the information to the Marine camp before the attack is launched. The captain said that Lt. Howard has four weeks to prepare us for the operation, starting today! Once a week, I will write to tell you about our plans! For now, I can tell that this will be super easy!

Retriever

January 19, 1966

We are one week into preparation. So far, we’ve covered the basics. You know, running through the jungle, close quarters combat, not dying. It’s the crap we all learned on Parris Island. We have barely touched our rifles that week.  
Our squad isn’t on patrol due to the fact that we are preparing for the mission. This also means that we will have little risk of injury in the weeks leading up to the battle.  
I asked Lawrence what he thinks of the mission. He refused to answer. Keeping up the… stoic persona. He simply got up and left. It hasn’t been the same with him since we left the island, honestly. I wish the old Lawrence was back.  
I decided to talk to Connor instead. Unlike Lawrence, Connor actually is worried. I asked him why. I didn’t anticipate the answer he had.  
“Back on Parris Island, I was told that my job as a radio operator was the most dangerous. As a matter of fact, in a gunfight, my life expectancy is six seconds,” he shuddered in fear of that idea. A chill went down my spine as he spoke. I didn’t know what to say. So, I simply patted him on the shoulder and said, “we’ll be alright. I promise.”  
Sam was busy, so I talked to Bailey. Out of all of them, he is the most enthusiastic about the mission. He said to me, “It’s the first ever real mission I’m getting!” Seeing a smile on his face calmed my nerves. However, something about what he said was offsetting.  
He told me that Lisa [his wife] is at one of the camps that they must defend. Cpl. Bailey demanded that we make sure that not only does he get to see her, but they must make sure that she is safe. This serious demeanor was new for the corporal. When he walked away, I called, “How far are you willing to go to protect her?”  
Cpl. Bailey turned back.  
“I am willing to die.”  
As he left me alone to my thoughts, I had that question too. How far am I willing to go? 

Retriever

January 26, 1966

Week Two: We’ve gotten a hold of our guns. Lt. Howard wants us in top performance when we complete this operation. He re-teaches us every last part of the gun. The lieutenant makes sure that we almost never miss. No, not almost never miss. He makes sure that we never miss!  
I’ve been sleeping with the rifle by my side, too. My anxiety is so high that without my gun, I am in danger. I do have many good friends, but there are only two major things out there that I truly love.  
My gun and my journal. 

Retriever

February 9, 1966

Today is our final day of training. Last week, we were given quick basics of dealing with wounds and bandaging. This week, we sharpened every last skill we needed. I feel the blood rushing through my veins. I can see myself already; I’m on the battlefield, countless of my allies by my side. We are shooting Charlies down one by one, until every last one of them is dead. I can see it now; all of us making it back safe. We celebrate and drink, and I am rewarded for my bravery. I can see it all now. It’s great. I know we can make it! I trust The Liberty Brothers, and knowing us, nothing will change for the worst! Until we meet again, journal. Tomorrow, we change for the better!

Retriever

 

 

February 15, 1966

Everything has changed for the worst. Every single thing that could go wrong did go wrong. I don’t even know where to begin… I guess I will start from February 10th.  
We left the early hours of the morning. The sun had yet to come up, and we were all exhausted. However, our legs marched forwards into the jungle. Throughout the day, the sun rose high into the sky, beating down on us. We fought through. Holy crap, it was painful. There was a river with no bridge. One by one, we helped one another across. From there on, it was just marching and preparing for the worst. However, nothing could prepare me for what we were about to experience…  
In the evening, it seemed like we had almost made it to the camp! Everything was perfect. Everything fit into place.  
Until the gunshots rang out.  
Bullets fired through the trees, sending chaos and panic into our platoon. Lt. Howard yanked me downward into a bush for cover. Grabbing my rifle off my back, I started to fire back. Realizing the only option we had left, Lt. Howard demanded that we charge into close quarters. So we did.  
I remember dodging the slices of Viet Cong knives. I grabbed my m7 bayonet knife and sliced the throat of a Charlie. The blood dripped from his neck as he collapsed to the jungle floor. But, I kept on fighting.  
One by one, our platoon tried to fight off the Charlies. I don’t remember much. The one thing I do remember was an enemy soldier grabbing me by the throat and diving into the bushes, taking me with them.  
In the chaos, I couldn’t see the attacker. I took my knife and tried my best to fight back. However, the attacker pushed me off and stole my weapon from me. It was then when I came face to face with my possible death.  
It was a young girl. She looked no older than thirteen. I wanted to fight, I wanted to attack, but I couldn’t. I simple struggled against the girl. Admittedly, I was about to believe I was successful, until…  
The Viet Cong girl used my knife against me and struck me in the eye.  
I couldn’t see. I grabbed my face in complete pain and terror. What was happening? Why did this hurt? Was I going to die?  
Suddenly, I felt the girl land a sharp kick to my side. In the chaos, I was sent tumbling down the side of a hill to the area below. The last memory I have before blacking out was my head striking the jungle floor.  
I have no idea how long I was out for. All I know was that it was too long. After almost ten minutes of just struggling to open my eyes, I finally snapped awake. Every memory came flooding back suddenly, and I remembered what happened.  
Fighting through the pain, I forced myself off the jungle floor. I remembered which way our group was heading, so I followed that direction. I do not remember how long I walked for. I struggled to keep my eyes open in the dead hours of the morning. The sun slowly rose, but I still didn’t find the camp. What snapped me awake was the sound of a man screaming. More gunfire rang out and I fell straight back into reality. Using every last bit of strength I had, I ran. I ran so hard, harder than I ever had in my life. I stopped by the edge of the treeline to see what horrors awaited me. What I saw was terrible.  
We were too late. The camp had been attacked. Vietnamese soldiers were everywhere. I saw them killing Americans and taking others away. I knew I had to do something, anything! I cocked my gun and ran into battle, screaming. Shots were fired as I saw countless bodies fall. It was an absolute nightmare. After what seemed like an eternity of firing my gun, every last bullet was fired. My gun was suddenly useless.  
I dropped the rifle to the floor, looking around me. The bodies of both Vietnamese and Americans laid all around me. I heard a voice call out.  
“MIKE! DUDE WHAT HAPPENED?!”  
It was Sam! I turned to the sound of his voice, only to see horror. He was being dragged away by Viet Cong soldiers. It wasn’t just him, but Connor and Lawrence, and Lt. Howard! The last thing I heard him say before being dragged into the treeline was, “Man, this was a letdown!”  
Grabbing my gun and a few spare bullets, I ran towards the treeline, desperate to save my allies. I knew I had to save them!  
“STOP, KID!” A voice came out from behind me.  
In fear, I turned to find the source of the voice. Quickly, I saw her. It was a woman. A nurse maybe? She was short, with curly hair and a dark complexion. Her hand was out, as if to signal me to stop. Slowly, the woman approached me.  
“You’ll be killed if you go into that jungle, private,” her voice was stern and serious. “Are you hurt in any way?”  
“What? N-no!” In the adrenaline of the fight, almost all of my pain was gone. She simply nodded and dragged me to a tent.  
“Sit.”  
Sitting down inside the tent, she left once again. This time, I heard another voice outside, that of a man.  
“Dead, Hospitalman Bailey. Everyone is dead.”  
Hospitalman Bailey? Could it be? This was none other than the Lisa Bailey! Oh, Cpl. Bailey needed to see his wife!  
“You’re Lisa Bailey?!” I exclaimed as I emerged from the tent. The man, who had a war dog with him, turned over to me in surprise. He quickly calmed the dog, showing that I was no threat. Lisa looked over at me, slightly confused that I know who she is. So, I explained.  
“I work under your husband, Cpl. Charles Bailey! I know he’s gotta be here!”  
The man with us, who looked like a Vietnamese marine, nodded. “I saw a man who looks like the corporal. He was around here somewhere-”  
I cut him off and grabbed Lisa by the arm. Quickly, I ran around the camp, calling out to the corporal. After minutes of pure calling, I got a response!  
“Pvt. Retriever…”  
It was coming from behind a tent! I was so excited! Dashing around the side of the tent, I was nearly yelling, “Cpl. Bailey! I found your wife! She’s here, she’s really here-”  
The sight was horrid.  
Cpl. Bailey’s body was on the ground, blood spilling from a gunshot wound to the stomach. Lisa gasped in horror at the sight and jumped straight to her husband’s side. I joined by her side, trying to keep his head off the ground.  
“Charles! You stay with me, love! I know you can’t die!” Desperately, the nurse tried to cover up his wounds. But, with a lack of bandages, it was futile. “How did this happen?!”  
Cpl. Bailey explained everything. He said that Sam was about to be shot. However, he jumped in the way to say the P.F.C. Bleeding out, he crawled behind a tent and tried to tend to his wound, to no avail.  
Gently, Cpl. Bailey cupped his hand against his wife’s cheek. A smile formed on his face, blood spilling from his mouth.  
“My dear Lisa, do not cry. I promise we will meet in our next life.” Then he turned to me. “Mike, please take care of my wife. She deserves the world… please… thank you... “  
Cpl. Bailey went limp in our arms.  
Lisa cradled her dead husband’s body in her arms, fighting back a world of pain. I simply stood up from the site and left. The Vietnamese man said nothing as I passed him into the open field. The shock was too much to believe. There was no way that Cpl. Bailey was… dead.  
I stared at the bodies all around me. I stared at the sun. I stared at the treeline. I touched the wound that ran up and down my left eye. I knew it was going to scar, but at that point, I did not care. I allowed myself to cry. Everything hurt, I needed to let it all out. I needed to help the few survivors there were. But most importantly;  
I need to save my friends.

Lisa came out from behind the tent, biting her lip. I noticed that her outfit had changed slightly. I didn’t know why until I realized something. She had stolen Cpl. Bailey’s body armor for herself. She bore his helmet, his belt, his weapons, even his dog tags. She spoke to the man and I, addressing him by what I assume is his name.  
“Chi, Mike, we must get out of here.”  
Chi nodded in agreement. However, that was not about to work for me.  
“No! We have to save my squad! I let them all down!” I stood my ground against Lisa, who’s face showed pure anger. “That way, I save my friends and you avenge your husband.”  
Lisa slightly cocked her head. “Do you have any idea where they may be?”  
Chi spoke up for me. “I believe there is a POW camp down at the Da Nang Bay.” I looked over at him. I didn’t know that at all. Quickly, I looked back over to Lisa. She simply smirked and cocked her rifle. “Then that is where we are heading. Fellas, we leave for Da Nang Bay in three days! Now we gotta clean up these bodies.”  
The nurse- no, a better term for her is a combat medic. The combat medic looked down. “And we must wipe the memory of this place.” I knew what she meant by that. She told me to rest before she checks my wound for any infections. I nodded with a simple, “Yes ma’am.” Before heading back towards the medical tent.  
Lisa came in and checked my stab wound for any infection risks. To my luck, there was none.  
“You’re a lucky kid, Private…”  
“Call me Retriever.”  
“Ok. Pvt. Retriever, it’s good to say that there is no infection. However this wound is going to leave a pretty nasty scar.” Lisa simply nodded to me before leaving the tent. I knew she was upset. Not at me, but at the world. At the people who had done her wrong. But now, we both will get our revenge. Now, I simply rest and wait for the third day to come. I have to save them. I know I will save them. For my friends, for my country.

Retriever  
(P.S. I like the idea of having a scar!)

February 18, 1966

I woke up today, excited as hell. Today was the day! We save my allies and kill anyone who wronged us! I nearly sprang out of my sleeping back, throwing on my military clothing and my dog tags. I grabbed my gun and my helmet. Sprinting out of my tent, I saw Chi and Lisa, along with that military dog. (I asked what the dog’s name was. His name is Camouflage!!!) The two turned over to me, grinning. I skidded to a stop in front of the two other soldiers. “Okay, so do we just leave now or do we eat?” I gripped my fists. I was extremely hungry, and I can’t fight on an empty stomach. Lisa laughed after I asked.  
“Of course, kid! I know that none of can fight hungry!” Her smile quickly faded, going back to her serious demeanor. “I’ve got three rations in my bag, one for each of us.”  
Taking out three small packets, we each got one. I didn’t really care what was in mine, I just wanted to eat!  
Camouflage got a little bit of meat from my C-Ration. He’s gotta be in top shape as well. While we sat down and ate on the ground, Chi asked me a question.  
“So, who makes up your squad exactly?”  
I was surprised at such a question. “Why, we’re The Liberty Brothers! 9th Marines’ greatest! Now that you’re friends with me, you’re Liberty Brothers too!” Chi chuckled at my response. Finally, we finished our meals and left the rations on the ground. They didn’t matter.  
“Okay, marines. Let’s do this. It’s go time!” Lisa lead the journey into the treeline. Chi and I followed close behind. I felt my heart pumping out of my chest. I couldn’t believe it! Today was the day I make history!  
It felt like we walked for hours. My excitement grew larger and larger with every passing second. Finally, something caught my eye. “Look, fellas!” I whispered loud enough so Lisa and Chi could hear.  
It looked like a prison. Viet Cong surrounded the camp. Lisa and Chi glanced over at each other. “What do we do now, miss?” I heard Chi ask. Lisa didn’t speak as she aimed her gun right to the head of a soldier. Before Chi and I could stop her, it was too late.  
The bullet dug into the man’s head, killing him on the spot. Groups of soldiers aimed their guns and fired towards the treeline. I ducked behind a rock with Lisa by my side. Chi and Camouflage we’re behind a tree. The dog was barking intensely, alerting the soldiers that we were there. My thoughts ran a million miles an hour. My disguise, why I’m here, my friends, everyone I love, everyone I’ve lost. It’s all down to this moment.  
In that moment, I cracked.  
Loading my rifle, I ran straight into the gunfire. I was screaming and laughing as I ran down the hillside straight towards the camp. Lisa and Chi, along with Camouflage, quickly joined my side. They fired their guns as well, taking out tons of Charlies. Camouflage tackled a man to the ground, biting deep into his leg. The soldiers kept firing, but I lost every reason to care. If I am to die in this war, I will die in the greatest way possible! In my fit of madness, I forgot everything that happened from that point on.  
The next thing I knew, the bullets stopped. Gaining consciousness, I turned back to face Lisa and Chi. Blood was smeared on our clothes and our faces. We wore it like war paint. Every Viet Cong Soldier was dead. Finally, we were at the entrance.  
I opened the doors to allow light into the small area. I saw Sam, and Connor, and everyone else in my platoon. They were beaten up, tied, battered and bruised. I said nothing as I approached the prisoners. Sam glanced up to see me.  
“Retriever! You’re actually here!” I grinned at my best pal as the three of us untied the entire platoon. In the joy, Sam, Connor, and Lawrence pulled me into a hug. Looking over, I saw Lisa and Lt. Howard make eye contact.  
“Dad?!” Tears swelled in Lisa’s eyes as she ran into her father’s arms. They held each other tightly, sharing a special moment between them.  
But these moments didn’t last.  
A bullet struck the side of the wall. Quickly ducking out of the way, I turned to see the shooter. I couldn’t believe it! It was the same girl who stabbed me in the eye!  
“Leave it to me, fellas!” I exclaimed as I ran up the stairs to where she hid. The girl took off running and I took chase. Eventually, I cornered her in the corner of the prison. The frightened teenager aimed her gun right at my face and fired. My breath stopped in that very moment.  
However, her gun jammed! Realizing what has happened, I was able to tackle the young girl and take control of the situation. With the teen submitted, I was able to bring her back to the platoon. When Chi saw her face, it looked like he was in pure shock.  
“Yen Thai Kim?! She’s wanted all over South Vietnam!” My eyes widened at this statement. Who knew that I had fought a national criminal? Chi took Kim from me and kept her hands behind her back. “Well, I know that she’s going to be locked away for a long time! Come on, we take her back to camp and clean up.”  
To make a long story short, we returned to camp quickly. I informed everyone about Cpl Bailey’s death. They were as devastated as I was. However, we all knew that his life won’t be forgotten. As long as Lisa is around to keep the Bailey legacy alive.  
As for Kim? Well, let me say that she is now spending life in a South Vietnamese prison. Sucks for her as a thirteen year old girl.  
Welp, you can tell that my day was highly eventful. Now, I close out this entry, my journal. I will write again soon.

Retriever

March 12, 1966

March 8th was our platoon’s last day in Vietnam. On that day, I remember hugging every one of my friends tight. I promised that I would never forget them, and they said they’d never forget me. I told Lisa that I’d keep her husband in my prayers. Lt. Howard said that if Cpl. Bailey were alive, he’d be proud of me. That day, our platoon got on the plane and headed for San Diego.  
This morning, I finally was able to drive back to Richmond. My family had no idea I was coming home. It was a great day. I pulled up to the front of my house, in my full military uniform. Carefully, I knocked on the door. After a minute, I saw my mother open the door. Her face went from shock to joy. She cried tears of happiness as she pulled me in for a hug.  
“Ginny! Oh Ginny you’re home!” She cried. She apologized for everything she did to me, and I did the same. My father was also in tears when he saw his daughter. Tom, however, had the best reaction of all. When he saw me, Tom said nothing. He simply ran at me and pulled me into the tightest hug ever! I was finally home! We all cried on the floor of the home I grew up in. I was happy to be alive.  
Now, to my dear journal, I leave my story at that. It’s a tale of sacrifice and love. I hope in the future, someone may read my story and carry on my legacy! Until then!

Sincerely,  
Ginny, Mike, and Retriever


	5. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

After finishing her final year of high school, Ginny once again took on the role of Mike and went back to Vietnam. She fought until the end of the war in 1973 by her friends’ side. She served in the marines until 1976 where she revealed herself to be a woman. Thanks to her great service to the nation, Virginia Gray was honorably discharged from the Marines in 1976. She went on to get two degrees in Law and English. To this day, Ginny is still alive. She works as a private detective. Her diary has been published as a story, the story you just read. Nothing will ever let her forget the years of 1964 to 1973.  
Virginia “Mike” Gray  
A friend, a sister, a brother, a soldier  
The Female Marine Of The 1960s


End file.
